


Captivating Pt. 1

by OmniGamer



Series: Daedric Captivation [3]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Bondage, M/M, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:07:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26540395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OmniGamer/pseuds/OmniGamer
Summary: Oneshots that somehow have a loose plot running between them. Takes place immediately after 'Frustrating''. Tags subject to change as more stories are added.Tags to specific stories are posted in the respective chapter notes, and ratings for individual chapters are in the respective chapter titles. Stories are organized chronologically rather than order written.First chapter is a Table of Contents as generally, the summaries for each story get too long to post everything in the main summary.Nothing new in this one yet, just wanted to reorganize the oneshots.
Relationships: Male Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Hermaeus Mora
Series: Daedric Captivation [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/638129
Kudos: 16





	1. Table of Contents

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing really new yet, just reorganizing the oneshots to read more easily.

**2\. It’s Only Fair [Explicit]**

_Applicable Tags: Bondage, Hermaeus Mora/Male Dovahkiin_

Last time Rowan treated Mora so nicely… It’s time Mora returned the favor. It’s only fair.

**3\. The Kraken's Revenge [Explicit]**

_Applicable Tags: Bondage, Hermaeus Mora/Male Dovahkiin, Tentacles_

Rowan finds out the hard way that Mora doesn't like to be called slow. Unfortunately, the Daedric Prince is also very vengeful about it. 


	2. It's Only Fair [Explicit]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last time Rowan treated Mora so nicely… it's time Mora returned the favor. It's only fair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Applicable Tags: Bondage, Hermaeus Mora/Male Dovahkiin
> 
> At this point everything between Mora and Rowan is consensual… Rowan's just a reluctant masochist, and will straight-up refuse to admit it if he's asked. Mora's not shy in indulging his Champion (and maybe himself in the process), even if a little force is necessary.

His own heavy pants and the creak of leather was all he heard in the stiflingly quiet room; the near silence momentarily broken by a page flipping.

_ Had it been hours or minutes?  _ Rowan couldn’t tell anymore. The lack of natural light threw off his internal timekeeping, and from where he was tied, he couldn't see how far down the candles had burned.

The humid air pressed against his  _ very  _ naked body - his clothes cut away only after he was wrestled into place. 

_ There was no way he would willingly strip down for this. _

Leather belts secured his wrists, one to each knee, and his knees had been wrested apart by a belt looping over the edges of a ridiculously huge bed - whose origins remained in question until recently. __

Mora reluctantly admitted that his followers had their own initial ideas of how to worship their lord.  _ ‘But you’re the first to get to use it,’ _ the Daedric Prince had assured him in a deceptively seductive voice, promptly taking advantage of the Dragonborn’s stunned silence to wrangle him into his current position.

Rowan's hard cock pressed flush against his belly, untouched and weeping, further ruining the black silk sheets set beneath his bent form. From somewhere behind him, he could sense the grinning bastard, hooded eyes focused on the quivering shape of his raised ass.

A single movement, no more than a twitch, and the slicked rod jostled within him once more, pressing up against that particularly sensitive spot and releasing just a little more aphrodisiac from its hollowed tip. A moan was half-dragged from his lips but he turned his head to muffle its remainder into lush silken pillows.

“Come now,  _ Champion _ … let me hear you.”

_ Champion _ . Now, Rowan  _ knew _ the bastard was enjoying this. Mora had already stopped using that name for him in their regular conversations. It was only when the Daedric Prince was…  _ distracted _ that it slipped out.

“How ‘bout we switch?” Rowan asked, hating how huffy his voice sounded. “I- arnrgh.” He stopped abruptly, having just lost his concentration and received another unexpected jolt of pleasure for the slip.

The Daedric Prince chuckled, the sound painted with genuine mirth. Rowan heard another page flip. “Perhaps, when you are no longer…  _ tied up. _ ”

_ Puns. _ Maybe the Dragonborn really was beginning to rub some human into the Daedric Prince.

“Weren't you saying how absurd your gifted strength is? Surely those bonds should be simple enough for you to snap,” continued Mora.

_ And here comes sarcasm... _

“I'm sure you wouldn't fare much better,” Rowan said through gritted teeth. Mora knew plenty well why he didn't just snap his bonds… The Daedric Prince  _ put _ the reason there. “After all, you were just begging so sweetly for my co-“ He nearly choked on his tongue as, with some outside  _ help, _ the rod was twisted deeper.

“What was that?” Mora asked with a pretend innocence, knowing full well what his tendrils were doing.

Rowan's mind blanked white, and it took a good solid minute before he could relax his restrained fists again. He let out a string of curses face first into the mattress, praying the Daedric Prince wouldn't hear.

_ But of course, he did. _

Mora clicked his tongue. “Language, Champion.” The Daedric Prince tried to sound affronted, but he failed miserably at keeping the mischief from his voice. “What have we agreed upon?”

“I… nnrah… work on… trying… gaaah… Dammit Mora,” Rowan snapped, as every time something left his mouth, the Daedric Prince would give the rod the slightest nudge. “I'm trying to talk here.”

“And I am listening,” replied Mora, giving the polished metal another unforgiving tweak. “Do go on.”

“Ooooh. When this is over…” Rowan promised darkly.

“I look forward to it…” An oiled tendril slipped in beside the rod, stretching Rowan's tender hole wider and prepping his body for what was to come later. “But until then… Where were you?” The Daedric Prince sounded disinterested, as if he was doing all this just to satisfy Rowan, but if the additional tendrils working up the Dragonborn's legs to grope him where any indication, Mora was getting a little needy himself.

Panting harder than before, Rowan took it as a cue and mentally prepared himself for his next move.

_ The rod wasn't going to make it easy, but at least Mora had pulled back his eager tendrils. _

His muscles flexed as he strained against the bindings, earning a groan and an eventual snap from the belt on his right. In the same instant, the rod wedged itself deeper, applying a delectable pressure that finally pushed him over the edge. 

Fresh seed spilled against the sheets and his stomach, but his body was far from finished, the aphrodisiac was still freely pumping through his system. 

Already he could feel himself hardening again, even as he collapsed into his own mess. He never had the chance to test this aspect of his new body, but it seemed Mora was more than willing to help see how far he could push its... endurance.

A delicate touch traced up his spine, chasing after the residual spasms of pleasure that coursed through the Dragonborn's body. “Ready for more?” The asked words were soft and wanting permission to continue.

Mismatched eyes turned to the Daedric Prince, pupils still wide as saucers, skin still flushed rose. “I just hope your followers have good launderers.”

Mora snapped the book in his hands closed, nearly bouncing to his feet in his eagerness for the next round. “I've never asked,” he said closing the space between them in quick, yet restrained, strides. “It'll be interesting to find out when we finish…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just something fun I drabbled out.


	3. The Kraken's Revenge [Explicit]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rowan finds out the hard was Mora doesn’t like to be called slow. Unfortunately, the Prince is also very vengeful about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Applicable Tags: Bondage, Hermaeus Mora/Male Dovahkiin, tentacles

Rowan was quite aware how obscene he currently looked. The fact that his pants had been purposefully ripped away during the process, only added to the pink-tinged shame flushing the Nord’s exposed flesh. 

His arms had been bound behind his back with heavy manacles and his ankles had been tied to his upper thighs with more chain. As if that wasn't enough, a bar had been set between his legs and chained to his knees to keep them spread.

"I think you're enjoying this far too much…" he said, addressing the Daedric Prince lazing above him.

"Hmmmmm?" The grouping of yellow-green eyes lingered over Rowan's anatomy as a tendril teasing pressed against the metal bar, forcing his knees against his chest then out again to release the added pressure unhurriedly. "But… this… isn't… about… … my… interests… is it… _Cham…p…ion…?_ "

There was another slow, languid press against what Mora, _oh so helpfully,_ informed him was his prostate.

Rowan twisted the best he could, trying to encourage some more movement from the obstinate, floating mass of tendrils. 

_Unfortunately, to no… argh… avail._

Every movement was so painfully calculated, to just tease his precipice but not enough to push him over the edge. To have his swollen cock pressing tight against his belly, but doing no more than drool uselessly without any hope of a true release.

Rowan had learned three things about the Daedric Prince leading up to his current situation. The first being: Mora despises being called slow - even if it were especially true in the Prince's more amorphous shape. The second was that Mora was surprisingly vengeful. And the third was the Daedric Prince was going to be as petty as possible about said revenge.

Rowan's muscles strained once more against his bindings, but there had been a reason they had stopped using leather for their… _festivities._

If he had known this was where the change would eventually lead, he might have been more resistant. “At this rate, I'm going to cramp,” Rowan said instead, though the likelihood was unlikely this early.

“Always… so… impatient…” The fat tendril slipped out of him, leaving his hole empty and clenching around nothing – save for Mora’s natural lubrication.

He couldn’t help the soft moan at the loss, earning himself a deep throaty chuckle from the Daedric Prince.

A different tendril moved back between his legs, and Rowan couldn't help dabbing his tongue over his lips. “And whose fault is that?”

The largest eye crinkled with amusement as the tendril moved to grip the bar tightly instead, lifting it ever so carefully up to raise his legs and lower back. Chains clinked as he was lifted, his body swinging momentarily like a pendulum as he was carried off the bed. A tendril gave a slight prod to his shoulder to stop the motion, then continued higher, to coil briefly around his neck.

“I… wonder…”

Rowan gave a small questioning hum, not quite wanting to voice his curiosity out loud as the tendril moved to trail down his front.

“I’ve heard mortals have erogenous zones… Zones being plural. I wonder… How many do you have…?”

“Curious?” This line of questioning wasn’t exactly something Rowan was expecting, nor was looking forward to its repercussions considering the long, tortuous minutes of earlier.

“I seek all knowledge. Even if that knowledge lies in another’s sphere. This is certainly no exception.”

More tendrils licked with featherlike touches up his sides. Each pausing temporarily to judge his reaction. Each moving on when Rowan refused to react the admittedly nice stroking. 

But, that was all it was.

Hard years of adventuring had turned his hide thick. There wasn’t much that could get him to react anymore. _He wasn’t even ticklis-_

Rowan spasmed as a tender touch stroked down the line of his back to stop at his tailbone, and his ears were touched with a sudden, forced pink. There had been one spot that remained susceptible. One that Mora had just found.

_Shit…_

The giant eyeball crinkled with the delight of its newfound discovery. The many tendrils departed, one first giving a coy tap to his lips.

“Founnndd oooonnne,” Mora stretched out victorious.

A tendril returned to give another slight lick to his spine.

Already expecting the teasing touch, Rowan twitched; his body’s response far less dramatic than the one earlier.

Mora hummed with the development. “So you can resist it… Interesting...”

“I bet…” Honestly, he wasn’t sure anymore if resisting was interrupting Mora’s evident fun. The Prince seemed just as delighted either way.

He was returned slowly to the bed, just enough that his back was touching it. Mora tugged on the bonds on his arms, and continued pressing down on his legs so that he was essentially folding in half. It was becoming a difficult position for his inflexible body very fast.

A tendril had returned to his hole, undulating as it slipped back inside. The returning stretch combined with feather like stroking along his spine, easily had his cock weeping again.

Mora urged Rowan’s legs down towards his shoulders. He could feel his body complain even as pleasure teased his precipice with every practiced thrust of Mora’s tendril. “Do you think you can suck yourself off, Rowan?”

Rowan’s eyes swiveled back up to his swollen member. It bobbed with every movement, its head a swollen, red thing, dripping with the promise of release. “I don’t think I’m that…” A well timed thrust cut him off just as a tendril caught his length to halt his orgasm. Mora wasn’t going to let him off that easily. “Mmmgrgh… flexible,” he finished.

Seemingly contemplating the extent of Rowan’s flexibility, the pressure folding him relented. “Shame. I could try removing a few ribs… One of your vertebrae, perhaps?”

Rowan had no doubt that Mora would, if given the opportunity. “Leave my bones alone, Mora.”

There was a distinct sigh as Rowan was granted relief. Mora flipped Rowan to be face first into the luxurious pillows, ass pointed skyward. The singular tendril joined by another, as they twined together to form a larger mass inside Rowan’s hole. “Fiiiine…”

A knock at the door interrupted the moment. “My Lords…?” 

Mora had vanished almost immediately at the first knock, leaving Rowan alone and in a very compromising position.

“L-Lord?” stuttered the visiting acolyte.

Rowan pressed his face harder into the pillows, as if he could just disappear into them. 

_Not that he was going to have much luck…_

“Yes?” Rowan asked, or tried to mumbling into the silk.

The acolyte seemed very flustered. Almost worse than Rowan. “It’s- It’s…. Ummmmm… It’s nothing urgent. I’ll come back later…”

“Please do…” He was already dreading what kind of gossip would follow.


End file.
